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#probably everyone who appears there :D
dairine-bonnet · 10 months
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Why is immortal Sion ready to fight with the Exile in the Sith Academy on Korriban and chase them to the entrance, but not ready to step out the door and chase the Exile? And why does Kreia recommend going to the Academy first, knowing that Sion is there, and only after that coming into the cave? Can't Sion enter the cave for some reason? I can't get it... Does anybody know the answers?:)
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laughinglynx · 1 year
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#wow look! a wild tag rant appears!#a bunch of Stuff has happened this last week and my brain has flipped the Lonely With A Capital L switch on#and I feel awkward foisting that on any of my friends so. tag rant it is!#I've spent most of my life (as in since kindergarten) approaching social situations as#'everyone else here will make friends and connections and I wont and I need to be okay with that'#every group situation. new classes. summer camps. afterschool activities. D&D groups. different jobs I've had#not in a pessimistic way just. realistic. it always happens.#and I get it! I am KEENLY aware of all the reasons someone wouldn't want to be friends with me#hell even I wouldn't want to be friends with me#I'm not going to list all of those reasons because#I am *constantly* terrified that my friends are going to figure those reasons out#I have four friends I regularly talk to (and a fifth who... idk that's a whole Thing). Four Really Good Friends#and most of the time I can push my anxiety into the background and just have fun with that#right now... not so much.#logically I know they probably aren't secretly exhausted by me#but I just can't make my brain realize that#and it's not even like they could do anything to help really#which is why I'm tag ranting instead of Talking to them because I just.#I'm just sad and anxious right now and my brain immediately dives straight into Lonely#and I don't want to dump that all on their virtual doorsteps#on the other hand isolating Does Not Help with the Loneliness but idk what to do#I'm bad at reaching out about this kind of thing and right now my anxiety is telling me that if I do#they'll clue in to how annoying I can be and stop talking to me
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redflagshipwriter · 2 months
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Mama Bat 9: Dinner Out
masterpost
After her promise, the bats were a whirlwind of activity. He didn’t know where Uncle D or Alfred went, but Cass and Bruce gently bustled him across the house to plan his ecto dinner like it was an attack on an enemy base.
“I think it was around here,” Danny said uncertainly over the map in Bruce’s study. “I don’t know the names of any of these places. But there was this abandoned-looking theme park that had a lot of what I need.”
He didn’t have to be the world’s smartest ghost to recognize that there was a lot of tension in the air after he said that. That tracked. There were not many pleasant ways for a place in the human realm to accumulate a glut of deathly energy.
“That makes sense,” Bruce said. “Cass, honey, do you think we should ask Dick and Jason?” He folded the map back up along the same lines as before without even looking. Danny wondered at why he had that muscle memory. Did he fold everything in the same pattern?
“Big visible muscle,” Cass agreed. Her phone appeared out of nearly nowhere. “Danny.” 
He stood up even straighter. 
“Is Amity dangerous?” She pinned him in a look, her soft brown eyes arresting. “Dangerous to Jasmine Fenton?”
“Jazz,” he corrected automatically. Cass nodded. He rolled his ankles around, stimming below their line of sight. “Uh.” Danny faltered. “Um.” He bit his lower lip and tried to feel less like there was a painful hand around his heart. 
He hadn’t thought so. But he would never have thought that he and Vlad were in serious danger, either. Now that the GIW and Mom and Dad knew… They would know who to ask for more information.
His parents would never push his friends or Jazz too hard. But the idea of the GIW trying to intimidate his friends and family was almost too upsetting to consider.
“Batdad extracts them?” Cass cocked her head at him to make it even more of a question. It was up to him. Was it a good idea?
Danny licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. He struggled for words. “Maybe.” One shaky inhalation. “If, um.” It sounded like someone else’s voice. It couldn’t be him saying that right now. “If it wouldn’t be too obtrusive… I don’t want to extract them and then, like, they can’t go back if they wanna.”
“We can handle that.” Bruce made eye contact to promise. He looked, Danny thought, like a more responsible, boring version of Jack Fenton. His eyes burned. 
“That would be, uh. Cool.�� Danny managed to get that out and avert his eyes, but he felt like everyone could see that he was about to cry.
Whatever. He leaned to the left before he consciously knew that Cass was lifting an arm to put over his shoulder. It slotted in place like they’d done it a billion times. Danny tilted his head towards the nails she gently scratched through his hair.
“Batdad, Damibat, Timbird, Stephanie,” Cass listed easily. “Amity.” She jostled Danny a little. “And we get dinner. You only need me. I’m the best. But we bring boys too, Dickbird and Jason.” She blew a raspberry.  
Bruce looked exhausted and fond. “She is the best,” he agreed. Danny watched their interplay like it was a pingpong match. “I think you ought to go tonight to get something to eat. Would you recommend that we contact Jazz and your friends in the daytime, or should we leave as soon as possible?”
…They all had school in the day. Even Jazz was still in high school. Danny eyed Bruce doubtfully. He did know about school, right? “Night is probably better.” 
“I’ll make a few calls.” Bruce sat back and seemed to flip a switch into planning mode.
“Text!” Cass said, disagreeing strongly. She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t too mean. “Grandfather Bat.”
“Oh!” Danny startled. “Um, I should contact Sam and Tucker. So that they know to expect you.” 
Bruce balked. “We don't normally contact civilians about ongoing investigations…” He looked constipated about it.
Danny crossed his arms. He wanted to think it was stubbornness more than self comfort. “You're not going to like, creep up on my friends. If they want to go, they need some time to get ready.” 
“Preparing could give away the plan to observers.” 
“Is Amity Park Batman's domicile?” Cass asked archly. “Batdad.” She put both her hands on his desk and leaned forward to give her father an unimpressed look. “Mayor of Amity Park?”
Bruce snorted and then covered his mouth guiltily. “Point taken.” He cleared his throat, trying to retain some dignity. “Danny, do you need help to contact your friends?” 
He shrugged. “Just a computer.” Danny fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. Tucker's hoodie. “I know you gave me a phone, but we thought -”
“That communications might be intercepted,” Bruce said, nodding as if that kind of paranoia was commonplace. “It's the first thing I would do if I expected a person of interest to contact a friend. What's your workaround?”
Danny bit his lip. It sounded stupid when he said it aloud. 
Ten minutes later, Damian joined Cass in her perch on the back of the sofa and watched with morbid curiosity as Danny joined Doomed chatroom after chatroom, scanning for Sam's username. “She’ll leave it running whenever she's home in case I ping her,” Danny defended weakly. He left another chatroom. 
Damian hummed, two pitches that came off incredibly doubtful. He had a gift for that.
“No, really, this- yes!” Danny pumped a fist and sent a HEY ITS YA BOI message. 
It took seconds for Sam to get to it and add his temporary account as a friend. She sent a DM before he could and then ignored his response to start a voice chat. 
Once he'd confirmed to her satisfaction that he was himself and that he hadn't gotten any deader in Gotham, he passed on the information that the friggin Batman was going to stop by Amity and wanted to check in. “But don’t worry, he’s kinda cool,” Danny added. “I gotta go. I am starving.”
Sam said all the rude words that she knew in quick succession. Damian looked sort of impressed. “Fine,” she said, obviously annoyed about it. “I’ll meet with Batman, but only because I hate the GIW more.”
“You hate Batman?” Damian asked. It was hard to tell from his tone if he had any feelings about that.
“That’s Damian,” Danny introduced. “He’s cool.”
“Hey,” Sam said shortly. “Yeah, he’s basically a cop. You have a problem with that?” Her voice went a little too aggressive.
“Just so you know, Damian is a child,” Danny said warily. 
Sam scoffed. “You said he’s cool. I respect him enough to fight him if he’s wrong.”
“Batman may be improved by your feedback,” Damian said idly, as if he wasn’t making trouble for his father on purpose. “You should be certain to give it to him as soon as you see him. Do you have time to prepare a presentation?”
Danny sniggered into his hand.
“I can reuse the posterboard from Current Events class, yeah.” Sam mused. “Good idea. Alright, thanks for the heads up. It’s really good to hear from you. We were starting to get worried here. You missed a check in, you know.” She was trying to sound tough, but there was a hint of strain.
Danny flushed. “Yeah, I had logistical difficulties,” he said, which sounded less pathetic than “I got robbed while I was sleeping outside and had no money to  use to access a computer.”
He ignored the thoughtful look he knew he was getting from Cass and signed off. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he stretched, hands over his head. Then Danny put his hands on his hips and kind of stretched by rotating his back around. “Well, that’s done. Have fun with Sam, Uncle D.”
Damian made a hum in the back of his throat, eyes lost in thought. “I think I will.” Then he stalked away without a proper goodbye. Just a big housecat, that kid.
“Do you think Jason and Dick will be here soon?” Don’t ask, don’t ask, Danny silently hoped.
Cass looked at him for a long moment, silently weighing options and odds behind her dark eyes. Then she nodded. She turned on her heel and left, obviously expecting him to follow.  
Danny jogged to keep up. How did she move so fast without running? She had short legs, too. He was still busy pondering when they rounded a hallway corner and heard male voices from the entryway.
“Wait.” Cass shoved him the last step with a gentle palm press to the shoulder and then flitted back down the hallway.
“Hey, buddy,” Dick said.
Danny managed a nod in return. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and tried not to look like he was hiding.
Jason all but oozed reassurance at him, without ever looking at him. As far as the eye could tell, the blonde was barely aware that Danny was present. But under the surface of his skin, his masses of ectoplasm were roiling with  a sort of proprietary indulgence. 
It was a kindness, probably, that the two men continued their conversation as if they were still alone. Danny didn’t really pay attention, thoughts consumed with  a mixture of nerves about his worlds colliding and sobbing relief that he might get really, genuinely full for the first time since he had to run away from Amity Park. He edged a little closer to Jason without thinking about it consciously. 
Cass arrived silently. Danny looked up as she entered the room only because he could sense her steady presence. “Time to go,” he said.
Jason startled with a very small jump. His expression instantly changed to exhausted resignation.
“Haha,” Cass said, pointing at him.
“Poor scared little guy,” Dick cooed. “You can’t sneak up on him like that.”
“Too scary,” Cass said, nowhere near as convincing as Dick at empathy.
Jason scowled. “Shut up,” he complained. He zipped up his jacket and yanked the door open. The sound of early crickets immediately cut into the house along with a fresh, cool breeze. “You both suck.”
Danny felt a faint smile pull at his face. He ducked his head and fell in, following at Jason’s heels. He didn’t look back to see who shut the door. 
Dick drove them all. They parked a few blocks away and made it across the barren, creepy fairgrounds in utter silence. Danny followed his instincts and the source that he’d sensed from kilometers away in the city center but had been too worn down to even try to trek to without at least feeding his human body.
“So, what now?”  Dick turned a cautious circle. “I didn’t exactly expect to see a physical object for you to eat, but I did sort of expect something.”
Danny made a face. “If I had the right tech I could filter and extract it out of the air, condense it into a really dense, liquid form. But, uh.” He turned a little to the side to avoid eye contact and hunched into his hoodie. “I sort of need to just hang out and…filter feed.” He grimaced. He sounded like a dumb fish.
“Inefficient,” Cass observed.
He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m really drained, so I need to be around a high concentration to get a jumpstart. If I needed less, I could probably just…” Danny made a circle gesture and sort of pointed at Jason. “Hang around him, I guess.”
Cass hummed in the back of her throat. “Perimeter.” Then she ran directly at a wall and hefted herself up onto the roof of the derelict funhouse. She was out of sight in seconds, which was impressive athleticism. Danny watched her go with raised eyebrows.
Dick huffed and shuffled even closer to Jason, clearly wary of Cass. “You can’t be the favorite uncle,” he lamented. “That should be me.” Danny choked down a laugh and pretended to be very busy filter feeding.
“You’re just crabby because you aren’t full of delicious ghost juice,” Jason muttered into Dick’s ear at a volume that he clearly thought Danny wouldn’t hear. The banter didn’t stop him from making periodic glances around the area. He caught an elbow to the gut from Dick for the comment and the inattention. Danny took a step further away from jabbing range.
“We aren’t here to hear you brag about how juicy you are,” Dick said out of the side of his mouth. 
EW. But Danny felt smug satisfaction in Jason’s aura at that answer, so apparently it wasn’t as nasty sounding to him as it was to Danny. He made a blegh face, scraping his tongue against his teeth.
‘Maybe I should tell them at some point that I have better than human hearing.’ He pointedly wandered a few steps further away and pretended to be occupied with sniffing out the highest concentration of ectoplasm.
Jason grinned unpleasantly. “No, I usually have that conversation with all of your exes- oof.” Jason bent over and tried to breathe through the hit to his diaphragm.
Danny did his best to ignore the commentary from the peanut gallery. He took deep breaths and tried to keep an eye on all the shadows. 
Amusement Mile wasn’t saturated with high quality ectoplasm like Amity Park, but nothing ever should be. Danny licked his lips and tried to stay alert. There could be any number of distressed or territorial dead around a place like this. It was eerily still. 
“This place is just plain creepy.” Danny hid a shudder. “What happened here?”
Jason huffed a laugh with absolutely no joy in it. “It’s more like what keeps happening here.” Danny glanced over at just the right angle to realize that Jason had a gun in his pocket. Holy shit. A gun. His eyes went wide.
“But nothing should happen tonight,” Dick cut in. His eyes looked tight and tense in a way that his breezy tone didn’t hint at. “The person who likes to use this area as a staging ground is currently in lockup. We double checked before we came out here.”
All three of them tensed when Cass jumped back down off the same building she’d climbed earlier. “Suspicious,” she said flatly.
Dick and Jason instantly lost their facades of ease. Danny realized, a bit late, that this place was really fucking concerning even to the living. “What’s wrong?” Dick snapped out. His posture changed and somehow his shoulders looked broader. Alarmed, Danny glanced between the adults.  
“Someone was here.” Cass held up a very familiar piece of tech. “Inside vent.”
Danny felt the blood drain out of his face. Cass zeroed in on the expression. “GIW,” he said. “Uh, that measures… that senses ghosts.” He licked his lips. “I think we should go.”
“Are you- are you going to be hungry?” Jason’s brow furrowed fiercely. “You think they might have an alert that you came out here?”
“We are more capable than we look.” Dick promised. And his serious voice was pretty reassuring, actually, all things considered. But Danny still felt like he was going to be sick. 
 Tires screeched. It was too late to get out of here.
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bokutosbiceps · 9 months
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don't be afraid to catch feels
eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji  x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words
warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit
a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !!  might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget
NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!
18+ MDNI | under the cut for length
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eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.
everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.
kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.
kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.
luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you. 
you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.
“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”
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monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.
“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.
“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”
luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually. 
he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.
“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.
“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.
“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.
“different with who?”
“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”
“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?” 
“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”
robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!
luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.
you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.
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roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.
he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first. 
but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.
he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong. 
when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.
“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.
“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.
“luffy doesn’t know—”
“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”
zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.
“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.
you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek. 
“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”
“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.
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trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them. 
and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.
you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you. 
“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”
you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”
bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it. 
a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.
it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.
“that damn bear…”
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usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal. 
“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”
“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.
“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”
usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.
you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.
“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.
“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.
“what’s on your mind, usopp?”
“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”
a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.
“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.
“no, but you just did.”
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vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.
sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous. 
when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.
“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”
you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you.”
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taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup
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simpjaes · 4 months
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enha as camboys and the content they would stream 😁
hyung line + being cam boys
★ heeseung:
absolutely no solo shows but will take your money if you want a private show where he dirty talks you and gets off with you. fr the only time you'll see him fucking himself is if you're on the other end wishing it was you to his face and telling him exactly how bad you want him. other than that, he's got a new guest every week, fucks them to near stars, and then finishes off by moaning real nice and pretty with his cumshot so he gets more tips. additionally, he only fucks other big cam stars to boost his analytics. he's very open irl about what he does, and will 100% fuck all of his private hook-ups as if he's on camera. to the point he probs seems suuuper selfish in bed.
☆ jay:
would probably cam for the money as a side job but be pretty casual with it. it's not his main source of income but he has a small following of fans that he obsesses over in secret bc like....woah, ppl actually want him this badly? cool! i think he's the type to take requests because he wouldn't really know what to do aside from fuck into his fist with a roll of toilet paper next to him. the good thing about that is? he's open to trying new things if you pay him enough, and will only do private shows with the fans who he thinks he could actually date irl bc he's emotional as hell about sex on the down low.
i think as he grows in popularity he would find his fun in various sex toys and dolls, probably would do jerk-off instructions for women using said dolls and toys. i'm talking, eating it out, telling them when and where to touch using the doll so they can pretend it's them, and then fucking it til he cums :D
★ jake:
100% doing requests and will moan the name of the highest bidder solely to make other viewers jealous so they tip higher next time. fr, everyone wants him to moan their name and it's probably like, his thing. like that's why people join his streams. of course it's also to watch him double fist his cock before begging out for anyone to drink his cum, it's also to watch on those days where he's particularly dominant and degrading everyone watching him while he works himself up. always something new on his stream, always a different name he moans, and fucking always private shows one after the other, pumping his cum out so often that he's practically trained himself to constantly be horny.
it pays his bills tho fr, who doesn't wanna just cum all day to the people who wish they could lick it up for him?
☆ sunghoon:
this man streams art. he's probably wearing some hot outfit, keeps his face out of frame, doesn't speak but only moans, and ultimately makes everyone wish he was their boyfriend. makes himself seem attainable, sometimes very vanilla, fucking just his fist and making it feel like a privilege just to watch, other times going all out with a toy, finger fucking it really good before doing long and slow strokes until he's getting off into it.
he'd never admit to people that he enjoys the work either, especially because he'd appear so professional on the outside. omg imagine if like, his coworker was one of his viewers and booked a private call, only for him to hear your voice and get soooooooooooo turned on knowing who you are, and wondering how he will face you the next day..........ok i got off track.
anyway, sunghoon anonymous boyfriend with a huge dick that fucks just the way women want. to the point they actually dm him their address.
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rallamajoop · 6 months
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Portraits of Miranda's family: Image assets and renders
Have some assets and object renders of all those fancy portraits of Miranda, Donna and Lady D and her daughters! There are also many more portraits of Miranda herself to be found all over the village, of course, but I've posted those before. Not sure exactly why the Dimitrescu portrait is so much lower-res than the others (the actual picture is plenty big in-game), but this is the only version of it I could find in the game files.
The painting of the three daughters is (as you've probably heard before) based on a real painting by George Theodore Berthon called "The Three Robinson Sisters" ‒ and when I say "based on" what I mean of course is "it's the same picture, they've just tweaked the poses and added the Dimitrescu crest and a few extra details." But then, you can do that when a picture is over a hundred years out of copyright.
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Whether the portraits of Dimitrescu and Donna were similarly based on specific historical art I do not know, though their faces look far more game-accurate, at least. Meanwhile, the portrait of Miranda so perfectly apes a thousand different madonna-with-baby images that I wouldn't be at all surprised if that slightly-creepy-baby comes direct from some original art piece, but who knows?
On a related note, has anyone else ever noticed the weird gender/class divide in Miranda's family? All five female family members appear in these flattering portraits (all seven if you count Angie and Eva), and Donna lives in a stately home and Dimitrescu in a castle, both attended by staff and servants. Heisenberg and Moreau, meanwhile, live in an old, run-down factory and a lake. The men do get their photos displayed in the church with everyone else's, of course, but that's hardly comparable to an actual painting.
There's arguably something of a technology divide too: though everything in the village seems old, Heisenberg's factory and the reservoir control mechanisms at least mark those areas as post-industrial revolution, and both feature major puzzles to get power generators running. But very little in Donna or Dimitrescu's domains would seem out of place in pre-Victorian times.
I don't think there's much meaning to be read into the gender divide (except inasmuch as you know Heisenberg plays up his filthy, lower-class persona just to get under Dimitrescu's skin) and I doubt it was even intentional. There's not much to suggest Miranda actively favours her 'daughters' over her 'sons', given Heisenberg's favoured treatment at Ethan's trial, and you definitely don't see the same kind of split in the Baker family of RE7, which gave us the gloriously revolting Marguerite. But as soon as you start digging into these characters, it's hard not to notice it all the same.
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myuminji · 1 year
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Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]
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[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.
Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.
Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.
He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.
The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.
Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"
He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"
Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."
Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."
A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."
Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"
Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"
Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."
Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."
He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"
Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"
Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"
Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"
Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"
He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"
Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."
The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."
Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"
Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.
"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]
[link to Image ID reblog post!]
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number-onekidqueen · 7 months
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𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫
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Part One Part Two.
Angst
Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader
warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses
Summary: you and Luke go to a party and some things happen while you’re under the influence.
Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.
Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.
And then the fun would begin.
The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.
Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.
He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.
You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.
How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.
Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.
The games were the only thing that kept him there.
“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”
He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.
He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.
But instead you kissed others.
Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-
For not-
Pointing at him.
At him.
And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.
His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.
You stayed still.
Still.
Still.
Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.
“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“
You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.
And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.
“Get some, Castellan!”
“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”
And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-
He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.
“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.
——————————————
So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.
He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”
“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.
“That you were tired?”
“Yeah!”
“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”
“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.
“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.
“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.
“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.
“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.
The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.
“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.
Your grip wouldn’t loosen.
“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”
“What?”
You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.
You met him once again.
It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.
You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.
He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.
But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.
“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”
“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“
No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.
“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.
He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.
Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.
————————————————-
The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.
He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.
And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.
The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.
He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.
That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.
He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.
“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.
“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.
“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“
“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.
What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.
Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.
“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.
You wouldn’t even meet them.
“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”
And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.
How he wished you had been sober.
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cheolhub · 1 year
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YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐
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summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.
wc. 6.2k
warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+
note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3
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if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.
“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.” 
he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”
you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”
he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”
you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?” 
he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”
you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”
vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you. 
“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.
you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”
vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”
“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!” 
he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”
it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him. 
“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”
truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.
he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.
you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”
he can imagine.
“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.
you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan. 
it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures. 
“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”
you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.
“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”
vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”
“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”
of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”
“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry. 
vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”
“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”
“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”
“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.
vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true. 
“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock. 
“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”
he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can. 
he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”
you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”
he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.
you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.
 it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.
and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.
but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend. 
but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day. 
he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did. 
and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?
you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.
“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.
then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic. 
your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.
“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.
you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least. 
“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.
it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it. 
for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much. 
“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”
you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants. 
stop, you tell your hazy brain.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you. 
his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core. 
he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle. 
“c-can… you do me a favor?”
“‘course, anything.”
“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”
you’re being dramatic. 
he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”
you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.
vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve. 
“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”
“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction. 
you want him. you… want him. 
“but–”
you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”
vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars. 
so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”
“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time. 
he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt. 
despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.
and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately. 
“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.
“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”
you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other. 
that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought. 
you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist. 
“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him. 
he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.
you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.
you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above. 
he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything. 
his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily. 
you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth. 
that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.
you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds. 
“you’re so wet.” he hisses. 
you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.” 
his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering. 
you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”
his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’” 
knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks. 
you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock. 
he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there. 
you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”
he definitely just fucking died. 
his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 
so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow. 
he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”
and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’ 
your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”
and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.
he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you. 
you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.
he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”
his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.
feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him. 
“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him. 
you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”
“really?”
you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”
he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.” 
“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again. 
he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest. 
he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”
“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”
he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”
you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”
he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”
what!?
you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”
he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”
you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”
he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”
you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”
“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”
you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”
he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”
you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”
his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”
“mhm…”
he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”
“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”
he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 
“duh… idiot.”
“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”
your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”
vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into. 
naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers. 
“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”
you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him. 
“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”
he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.
“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it. 
“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”
you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.” 
he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”
you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”
his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.
he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly. 
he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.
you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised. 
when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.
“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”  
he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”
you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.
when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”
you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”
you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight. 
tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.
vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you. 
your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them. 
and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.
“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him. 
vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?” 
and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer. 
his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing. 
“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out. 
and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum. 
it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release. 
his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs. 
“hey,” he whispers. 
“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”
he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face. 
“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”
“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”
he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.” 
you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”
“where?” he mumbles into your neck.
“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’���
vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”
you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?” 
“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”
“you’re jealous of cheol!”
he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”
you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”
he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.” 
you raise an eyebrow, “just good?” 
“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”
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A lot of people (including some QSMP members) are theorizing that the Eggs are evil or are being controlled by the Federation, but I disagree. Even if the Eggs are somehow acting as spies or agents of the Federation, I don't think it's willing and I don't think they know it. Why?
Because of Chayanne.
moti_otp on Twitter made a thread that compiled ALL of Chayanne and Richarlyson's signs from their conversation (Phil's May 3 VOD, Timestamp 3h 7m). Here's the transcript:
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Richarlyson: How are you Chayanne?
Chayanne: I'M OKAY Richarlyson and you?
Richarlyson: I am great!! Happy to meet you but I am concerned about my dad's plans.
Chayanne: I'll ask you some questions is that ok?
Richarlyson: Sure :D
Chayanne: What are your dad's plans?
Richarlyson: They plan on building the biggest favela in the server :D
Starts innocently enough, right? Chayanne knows Forever is one of Richarlyson's dads, and he knows Forever is interested (a little too interested) in Phil, so it's normal that he wants more information.
But then it takes a turn.
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Chayanne: Where do you come from?
[No response is given]
Chayanne: How many people do you know on this island?
Richarlyson: Uncle Fit, Roier, and Foolish Bobby and Leo and now you
Chayanne: Do you want to hurt anyone?
Richarlyson: Just bulls they broke my egg rights
[Context: they lost their first life to a bull]
Chayanne: Why I never saw you before?
Richarlyson: There was not enough Brazilian aura (the ship was late bc don't know how to drive boats)
Chayanne: How long have you been here?
[No response is given]
There are a few things we need to keep in mind here: Richardlyson isn't one of the original eggs. Like Tallulah, he conveniently happened to show up right when a new Egg was needed... but his appearance was a little too convenient.
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Chayanne: give me 3 reasons why I should trust you
Richarlyson: I have style :D
Chayanne: Should I keep an eye on your dad? Did someone else arrive with you? Or are you alone?
Richarlyson: I… maybe!! But if he gets mad he would probably try to take down any mountain nearby he is dangerous for the nature
Unlike some of the other Eggs on the server who (canonically) only know a little bit about what's going on (either through osmosis, overhearing things, or getting information directly from their parents), Chayanne knows more about what's going on on the Island than most for one simple reason: Phil trusts him.
Any information Phil learns, he tells Chayanne. At first I was a little worried, but as time goes on, it seems more and more like Phil had the right idea. He wants Chayanne to be careful and be prepared for the worst, especially since Chayanne only has 1 life left ("Living Hardcore mode"), and Chayanne has taken this to heart.
A lot's going on right now and everyone's a little big suspicious, but I think Chayanne has proven where his loyalties lie.
Bonus:
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Chayanne: Why does your dad wants to date my dad?
Richarlyson: I think… 2 things 1. He's a bit*h 2. He is crazy
Chayanne: My dad is happy married to my dad Missa thank you
Richarlyson: He is cheating.
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gdn019283 · 2 months
Text
Why I believe Arthur isn’t attracted to women and my not so deep analysis over it (this is my personal opinion, and a mess, so bear with me)
Hear me out.
Not only Arthur is a very constipated man over pretty much everything, doesn’t show or openly says what he feels, especially in the first two seasons, but he doesn’t even have friends, except those that he is supposed to have because he is a regent, and later a king. His father is even worse, thought him nothing if hatred and repression, so we can say he sucks at socialisation, and I may or may not be projecting here, but I know what it feels like to be out of your bubble and enter the world feeling completely out of yourself, which is why Arthur is attached to the hip with Merlin, and is he so enamoured, attracted, shocked with him during their first encounter.
Back to my point, he is socially awkward, but I don’t believe that is the reason behind why he acts the way he acts towards every single woman character in the TV show. (his own bloody wife included)
Arthur doesn’t like women, repertory A:
First kiss with Gwen. Lovely, I always smile when I see it, but why. Like, Arthur thought he was going through with his death, just received a token of affection that no one had ever dared give to him, felt appreciated, like a beaten kid who receives his first hug, and thought: “Okay, well, might kiss her too, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” , dipped for a peck, and FLED RIGHT AFTER. His face showed no emotion, he basically just gave a shrug when he realised he and Gwen couldn’t be together and went on with his day. And honestly, if it wasn’t for the amazing soundtrack, I would just stare at the screen with a flat face during their first kiss. You can feel the difference between this scene and the one where Lancelot saves Gwen and tells her to run, and they kiss before they part, and THERE you can feel the longing, understand why there had to be a parting kiss. Arthur almost feels relieved that Uther won’t let him stay with Gwen after he survives, but whatever.
Repertory B:
Arthur, even if enchanted, stills asks Merlin for advices on “feelings” and “girrlllss”. This doesn’t need explaining.
Repertory C:
Men can be shy, obviously, even with women, but, as I cited above, Arthur has no idea how to socialise. His friends, hell, even his relationship with Morgana, wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Merlin. So explain to me why Arthur doesn’t even look at Gwen until he has to, and goes around NOT CARING about women, unless Uther is the one throwing them at him, and then caves when a pretty man appears on the screen. I also believe this is the directors’ fault, who tried so hard to make the relationship between Gwen and Arthur real, that they just made a gay show, but Arthur, when he had more worrisome things to think about, he didn’t care about women, or girls, or courtship, in the slightest, until Elena gets in the picture and he has to think about marriage and a future with his queen, again. I firmly believe Arthur chose Gwen not because he loved her romantically, but because to him, she was the best choice amongst everyone else.
Repertory D:
The Knights of the Round Table. Arthur, a prince that throughout all three seasons has an hard time even speaking openly to Merlin without making fun of him, or to Gwen, suddenly fights his father over Lancelot (because he admired him quickly, and couldn’t understand that because of his sexuality, he felt very comfortable around a thoughtful man like him), drools over Percival the first time he meets him, probably thinking of how nice it could be to jump the giant like a tree, and has a love hate relationship with Gwaine, because Gwaine is everything Arthur envies. Free, open, and in a close relationship with Merlin, (a man) that Arthur forbids himself to have. (also, nice hair)
Repertory E:
Mithian. Arthur doesn’t spare a glance at a single woman in the show. He does it with Gwen (poorly) because he feels he needs to, and once again avoids marriage, and acts like a complete panic around Mithian in the entirety of the episode where she is introduced. He can’t take her compliment when he meets her the first time; he doesn’t realise that standing outside a woman’s chamber for that long can mean something else; he is affronted of having burped in front of her, not because he likes her and she is a woman, but because Arthur’s ego is too huge; this man has no clue over: “how to act around women”, because to him, women are people he isn’t attracted to. As simple as that. He finds Morgause irritating and not beautiful, like many others, because to him, she is just another very good warrior who has beaten his ass.
Repertory F:
Arthur doesn’t have sex with Gwen (oh, hot take). We never see them languidly stare at each other (unlike the eye fucking that happens between Merlin and Arthur. That’s not sexual tension that can be cut with a knife, it’s a wall of homosexuality where Arthur often bangs his head on) Yes, this show was very chaste, but definitely not intended for kids (see innuendos), so how could someone who should be close to Gwen, in any way possible, doesn’t recognise that his wife is bloody enchanted and she is trying to kill him? No, you don’t need to have sex with someone to understand that they want you dead and that they drastically changed their personality, but my brother in christ, this just proves me that Arthur was attracted to the idea of a peaceful kingdom, ruled together with an intelligent, fierce, and good woman by his side, rather than attracted, attracted to Gwen per se. The rest of the time he just followed Merlin around like a puppy. He married for love? I believe he married his best friend Gwen so that he didn’t have to go through the process of having kids. The heir had never been the problem. If it was for Arthur, he would have married Merlin the instant he met him in the market during the first episode.
Repertory G:
Do we see Arthur openly complimenting the women in the show? No. Also, because it’s not the point of the show. The point of the show is the homosexual relationship Arthur has with his serv—(he does it with Gwen and probably Mithian, because she is objectively beautiful, but I can’t remember other instances)
Last but not least:
Merlin.
Separately, Arthur, and here I’m adding Gwen, too, are both complex and well thought characters, lacking many things and contradicting themselves during the show, always because of how they were badly written in a lot of episodes. The Arwen scenes are lovely, but they don’t bring out anything. They don’t make you hope, giggle, despair, cry, because to me, there is nothing there to be tragic over. They just needed to fill a gap so that the people who didn’t like the idea of Merlin and Arthur together romantically would have something else to watch. Which is also the main ship of the show and it makes everything more hilarious, because they fucked it up so bad, LMAO.
The more you try not to make something gay, you just make it even gayer that what you had originally planned.
I had so many other points, but my ADHD said no. So if you want to add something else, feel free to do it!
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fear-is-truth · 1 month
Note
can you do evans reacting to you giving them head unprovoked lol
𝜗ϱ ┆ GIVING (UNSOLICITED) HEAD .ᐟ
── THE EVANs ‧ h e a d c a n o n s ೃ࿐
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ft. tate ‧ kit ‧ kyle ‧ jimmy ‧ james ‧ kai ‧ austin ‧ peter ‧ warren ‧ colin
⟣ TAGS ‧ NSFW | f! reader | mdni
a/n: cackling at this rn… thx anon
⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.
a devious smirk would appear on his face
because this is basically one of his (many) fantasies coming true
plus he’s like horny all the time
a whimperer and a moaner. everyone in the house would know that he’s getting head
⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.
needs a bit convincing (scared of getting caught— whether it’s by the orderlies in briarcliff or the kids in the house)
there’s a bit of hesitation at first
don’t get me wrong, he loves the feeling of your pretty lips wrapped around his dick
it’s just that Kit is more of a giver than a receiver (aww)
would definitely offer to return the favour after you’ve pleasured him
⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.
if you’re intoxicated at a party and offered him, he’d definitely refuse
even if he’s your boyfriend
he’d switch from party animal mode to protective mode and look after you
steering you clear from doing anything you’ll regret afterwards
e.g offering random guys blowjobs because he knows his frat brothers don’t have morals or common decency
⟢ franken .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.
would happily accept it
and who can blame him?
⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.
would stare at you with almost a comical expression of confusion
but he’s not gonna pass on a free bj from a pretty girl like you
real sweet afterwards. helping you clean up, giving you a glass of water etc.
would return the favour. he really knows how to please a lady with his hands ;)
⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.
would be mortified at your wanton behaviour
maybe if he’d just finished murdering someone and you offered him head, James would happily accept
but under most circumstances, he couldn’t approve of your “unladylike” behaviour (as if murder is socially acceptable… this man has double standards.)
“you little minx…”
expect to be punished later lol
⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.
surprised but wouldn’t show it
would take it as his due
takes great pleasure in gagging you with his cock while calling you a slut
it’ll become a regular occurrence, where he’d expect blowjobs from you wherever and whenever
not that he cares if his followers see
⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.
would accept in a heartbeat
moans like a total slut on the couch
he’d be very vocal and talk dirty
tells you that you have world-class, olympian level mouth game
⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐀.
are you fucking kidding? hell yeah
a whore for sloppy head
grunts and groans
might be unintentionally rough and grab your hair
makes up for it by getting high with you and probably more sex
⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.
he’d laugh it off, thinking that you weren’t being serious
but when you’ve made it clear that you were serious, he’d be a flustered mess
really sensitive
whiney and fidgety
⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.
his face would blush fifty shades of red
palms sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
tries to maintain a somewhat calm facade but he’s a total mess
would instinctively place his hand on the back of you head then wonder if that made him seem too dominating or eager
would be at a loss of words
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 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 months
Text
⛧ 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 ⛧
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⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader
⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/fluff/angst
⛧ Summary: It's Halloween 1996, you've just broken up with your toxic ex, and there's a killer on the loose. When you go to the local video store to find your next distraction, you run into your longtime crushes who have their hearts set on looking after you. But you must be careful. Not everyone's who they appear to be.
⛧ Word Count: 2.1k
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⛧ Warnings: brief discussion of murder, implied possessive ex, intro to knife play if you squint, suggestive, psycho Minsung, you probably have a killer fetish, & that's all my loves. It's otherwise quite fluffy tbh.
⛧ A/N: I'm starting this series as my love letter to 90's slasher films aaaand because I just love Minsung. I'm writing this in "tapes" instead of chapters for ✨ ambiance ✨ so I hope the vibes come across. I'm already working on part two so I'll have my knives and fingers crossed you babes enjoy this one.
💀 >>> Go to Tape 2 >>> 💀
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A bell dings overhead as you step through the door of Topline Video. A crowd of middle school kids dart by, nearly knocking you over in their excitement to get home with some cheesy slasher flick they definitely shouldn’t be watching. All are in full costume, wearing the kind of plastic masks that smell sorta funny when you put them on. 
The kid dressed as a goblin turns back for a second, peeling up the murky green mask to reveal an apologetic face. “Sorry, lady!” he shouts, taking your gentle smile as a sign of forgiveness and racing to catch up to his friends. “Lady?” you whisper to yourself, the door creaking shut behind you, “Great, now I feel ancient.” 
Lucky for you there’s no time for an existential crisis as you’re swept into the frenzy of the video store. The walls are packed with what must be a thousand VHS tapes. Double sided displays line the aisles with hundreds more. Every one of them is some brand of horror movie with even the most obscure subgenre present. 
Black and orange streamers travel from one end of the ceiling to the next with tiny spiders dangling from them. Giant skeletons lurk in the corners guarding jack o lanterns with flickering eyes. Every year people eat it up but this year is particularly spooky. It sends a shiver down your spine when you recall why. 
“I heard they found another leg” a red haired girl says, casually smacking on a piece of bright pink bubblegum. Beside her a shorter girl files through tapes under a large bloody hand drawn sign reading SERIAL KILLERS.
“I thought they already found both of his legs. A guy can’t have three legs.”
The red haired girl shakes her head, smiling mischievously. “That is not true. I hooked up with him once. You could for sure consider that thing a third leg.” The girls break into a fit of giggles. Dodging their insensitivity, you squeeze yourself into the Monster Movie section. 
“Hey Drac” you sigh, staring up at the Dracula cutout looming over you, “I live in a town of idiots.” “You don’t mean everyone, do you?” a voice answers back with the worst Dracula impersonation you’ve ever heard. Suspicious that it isn’t coming from the cardboard cutout, you peek around to see a familiar face stocking the shelves. 
Your heart immediately begins to flutter, a blanket of warmth encompassing you. Han Jisung. If you flip through the dictionary you’ll find him under D for dreamy. The glow of the setting sun kisses his dark curly hair, making it almost sparkle. And those brown eyes, they’re so…no…keep it together. 
“That’s a terrible Dracula voice” you tease, arms folded across your chest. “I don’t know what you mean. Bleh, bleh, bleh” he carries on, pretending to bare his fangs. Now it’s you who’s giggling and you can’t stand how easily he gets you to.
“You are such a dork, Han.”
Returning to his normal voice he only shrugs, “But that’s why you’re so insanely in love with me isn’t it?”
His words intensify the heat moistening your palms. Fidgeting with the sleeves of your jean jacket, you wrack your brain for some witty response only for nonsense to tumble out. 
“No. What? I…uh…um…early.” 
Popping a copy of Megaverse Massacre 2 onto the shelf, Han raises an eyebrow at you, “Early?”
Your brain finally catches up to your mouth and you spit it out. “Uh, yeah, early. I heard you guys were closing early because of the…” 
“Body hacking psycho killer?” a voice cackles, gripping your shoulders from behind. You let out a blood curdling scream that draws the attention of a few nearby shoppers. Swinging around, your fist ready to dish out a debilitating gut punch, you come face to face with Lee Minho. You haven’t quite decided if he can be filed under “dreamy” or “asshole” yet.
Minho grins, never finding you cuter than when he’s getting on your nerves. “I’m sorry, babe. Didn’t hurt you did I?” he teases, straightening out your clothes with a gentleness you weren’t expecting. The sun’s doing that thing again. The sparkle. The glow. The radiant brown eyes searching yours, threatening to make you fall even deeper into them than you already have.
Han dips between the two of you, separating you before you rip Minho’s head off. “I’m sorry. Really. He was deprived of air in the womb. Being an asshole’s just a side effect.” 
Over Han’s shoulder Minho frowns, “Hey! Rude much?” Digging into his pocket, Han pulls out a lollipop. It’s sugar blown into the shape of a blood drenched kitchen knife. “Are you bribing me with a sugary murder weapon?” you ask, staring at it skeptically. Han flashes you a close lipped smile, his cheeks so fluffy it’d be a crime to deny him.
Snatching the lollipop you waste no time popping the wrapper off and tapping Minho on the head with it. “Hey! What was that for?” he winces, wiping lollipop residue from his head. “Sorry, babe” you grin, sucking on your tool of revenge, “Didn’t hurt you did I?” Han buries his face in his hand but it does nothing to hide the joy he takes in his best friend’s pain. 
This is nice. Laughing with someone. With them. It’s been a while since you felt this light around other people. The recent weight on you hasn’t been of some invisible boogeyman sneaking off with one of your limbs. No, your boogeyman was someone you knew well, or at least thought you did, and he’s haunted you every chance he can.
Speak of the devil…
A bell dings, drawing your attention to the door where a man in a demon mask scans the room for someone. You recognize him immediately. Those boots. Those pants. That flannel shirt you always found totally hideous on him. Your heart sinks, the lollipop in your hand tumbling to the floor.
You see Minho and Han’s hearts sink too. It’s as if they sense that any joy you’d been feeling just went down the drain that instant. Minho whispers something into Han’s ear. You can’t make out what, only the calculated tone of his voice. “Hey!” Han says, perking up again, “We’re having a movie night tonight. You should come.”
As the man in the demon mask spots you, your eyes dart back and forth between the men. “A movie night? Sure that would be…I’d like that.”
Han takes you by the hand, “Wicked. Come on, you can pick a movie from the back.” He leads you towards the backroom just as the man advances towards you. Peeking over your shoulder you spot Minho blocking his way. A quick left turn stops you from seeing what happens next, filling your vision instead with tattered old movie posters.
Passing a few of Han’s coworkers, you wave politely and they smile in return. The back room’s like a dustier, quieter version of the sales floor. The walls are still lined with tapes, only there’s no way these have been watched any time in the past decade. Through the dust you see the spine of a tape titled Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 4.
“That one” you decide, stopping dead in your tracks.
Han stops too, squinting to spot what caught your eye, “A woman of taste I see.” 
Pulling it from the shelf, he blows the dust away and hands it to you. “Only the finest for you.”
You feel that lightness again. It's easy to feel it when he smiles at you like this. Such an unexpected but welcomed sense of safety. “Han, thanks for…” you start but the surprise sensation of his lips pressed to yours makes anything you were about to say feel insignificant.
With one hand still holding yours, his other hand comes to rest on your lower back. Your lips are somehow softer than he’d imagined. Even in the absence of the lingering strawberry flavored lollipop, he knows they’d taste just as sweet. Minho’s gonna kill him when he finds out that he kissed you first but nothing could be more worth it.
“Thank me by not worrying about your ex,” he says, “He won’t bother you anymore. I promise.” 
You want to tell him how much he doesn’t understand. That your ex doesn’t give up that easily. But you decide not to ruin the moment, even if letting yourself believe him feels delusional. “Jisung, we need you up front!” one of his coworkers shouts back. He hesitates, unsure if he should leave you or not.
You kiss him first this time, turning him loose, “Go. I’ll be fine back here. Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 1-3 have gotta be rotting around here somewhere right?” One last kiss and he’s rushing back up front, clueless as to how he’s supposed to focus on anything else now.
Turning back to the shelf you realize how big of a challenge you’re in for. Maybe there’s a feather duster somewhere? Or a respirator mask?
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“Give it here. That has to be wrong.” Minho approaches the kitchen counter where you sit, playfully swinging your feet. He reaches for the magazine in your hand but you clutch it tightly to your chest, refusing to fork it over.
“Live with it, Minho. You are Suspicious Boyfriend.” 
“Suspicious boyfriend” Han sings, retrieving a bag of freshly popped popcorn from the microwave, “I think it has a ring to it.”
Hopping down from the counter, you skip your way over to Han extending the magazine and the pen in your hand out to him. “Your turn, Hannie.” You see the skepticism all over his face but don’t give up. All torture must be equal after all.
“I’ll take that” Minho smiles, stealing the popcorn for himself.
“Sure. Why not?” Han surrenders, grabbing the magazine and the pen. You and Minho watch on, far more amused than you should be, as Han skims the pages checking off answers to silly personality questions. Pick a country to travel to. Pick a favorite food. Upstairs or downstairs?
After a minute or two he finishes and slides the magazine back over to you. You can barely contain yourself as you assess his results. Leaning across the counter, you share them with Minho who immediately begins to laugh. 
“What’s so funny? What did I get?” Han asks looking so genuinely concerned that you almost feel bad for telling Minho first. Minho empties the popcorn into a bright orange Halloween bowl, shoveling some into his mouth. “Comic Relief Best Friend” he mumbles. Han frowns, coming to see for himself. You hold the results page up for him. 
Which Horror Character Are You?
You point to his score beneath the headline “Comic Relief Best Friend”.
“Oh, okay. So I’m funny and I die before him. Perfect.”
“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that” you say, poking at his chin, “It’s not like I got the best result either. I’m the Final Girl.” 
“What’s so bad about that?” Minho asks, his words muffled by food, “It means you make it to the sequel.” 
“No, it means that I’m boring. Badass but boring. I wanna be the killer. They have more fun.” 
Han shakes his head, a sympathetic hand resting on your shoulder, “I hate to break it to you but you’re not really killer material.” Minho takes your hand like a doctor prepared to give you some bad news, “Yeah, you just…you don’t have it in you, kid.” 
“Don’t have it in me? I do so!” you protest, your tantrum not doing much to make you less adorable. Minho moves toward the knife rack behind him, carefully selecting the biggest, sleekest one he can find. “Okay, so kill me.” 
There’s a long, tense silence.
“Come on. It’s not that hard. Just…” Minho mimes stabbing himself in the chest, his tongue stuck out sideways. “Give it!” you shout, running to take the knife away. Minho catches you by the wrist, slipping the knife into your hand and raising the tip of the blade an inch away from his throat.
“Do it” he dares, his hand tightening around yours, “Prove us wrong.”
There’s an unnerving excitement in his eyes as he awaits your decision. An excitement that doesn’t seem to want you to back away. No, it wants you to come closer. He wants you to come closer.
“Hannie,” you plead, “Can you talk some sense into him please?” Han joins the two of you, saying nothing at first, simply observing. The way that they watch you is intensely sexual and some part of you, one you hadn’t known existed until now, seems to take pleasure in it. 
Han laughs, bringing his arms around your waist, “Oh but sweetie, we’ve played your game. Don’t you wanna play ours now?”
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mythicalmyles · 1 year
Note
Hiya myth! Is it okay for me to request?
Because if it is, then can I request for a reader who is just a big ball of sunshine and a virgin?
You can put any creepy pastas and kinks c: That's all! Thank you :D
-🍀
Naga!Toby x Sunshine!Curious!Reader
(18+, Ovi, Overstimulation, Double pen, Dubcon, rimming, sex venom, breeding)
You stumbled over a branch, letting out a gasp as one sliced across your cheek. You let out a whine as you rubbed your cheek, fingertips coming back red. You pouted and slumped your shoulders, rolling your eyes as you shuffled back to your feet. Your lip twisted as you rooted through your bag, pulling out some antiseptic spray.
You tended your wound as best as you could, hissing as the liquid burned your wound. Luckily you didn't think it was that deep. Part of you was ready to give up, it had already been hours since you had set out on your exploration. But curiosity kept your feet moving, determined to see if the reports were real. Part of you knew it was stupid, for god's sake it was a report from almost 100 years ago.
But when you found it, you knew you had to find out. It was locked up in an old government building for a reason.
And that was that, you booked the flight and bought a boat. It had taken almost a year for you to get to the island, completely isolated and abandoned. It was thick with foliage, leaves almost triple your size. You pulled out a bottle of water, quickly downing the sweet liquid but careful to ration it. It didn't rain often but it was enough to not have to worry too much. The island was also ripe with fruits, it wasn't the best but it could keep you going as far as you needed.
You took in the sight for a moment as you mindlessly slipped your water bottle back into your bag, vibrant greens purples and reds filled your vision. It was breath taking, almost hard to believe somewhere existed on earth that was so beautiful.
You froze for a moment, focusing hard as you tried to listen closer to the sound. You let out a small breath as a smile spread wide across your features, quickly pulling the report out of your bag. It had been burnt but there was at least something to go on.
'Water ran red with blood
Everyone d'
There was water, and you could hear the sound of a very distant waterfall. It sounded really far away but hope overrode your brain and you hastily made your way towards it, batting leaves out of your way.
The sound got louder as you got closer, cementing that you were going in the right direction. You must've been speed walking for an hour before you finally had to stop, chest heaving as you practically dropped against a tree. Your mouth felt as dry as a bone in the desert, you practically ripped your bag open to get your water. Care going out the window as you chugged down the sweet liquid, you drank the entire bottle thanking the stars you at least had two more.
You popped the now empty bottle back into your bag, letting yourself breath as you stared up at the trees. You pulled out the report again, going to the page about its appearance.
'It had a long dark green patterned, scaled tail, it must have went on for at least four foot. It had long black spikes down its back and a ferocious human face permanently set in a scowl. It bleeds black as the night sky as it hisses and spits venom at those who dare get too close. It has already taken out five men
Gus torn in half beast gripped his ne
wont last much lo'
You read as best as you could around the burned edges, feeling bad for the poor creature. It probably just wanted to be alone, instead it was ganged up on and attacked. You knew there was a danger to what you were doing, it wouldn't trust humans. You knew that much. But you hoped coming alone and unarmed might make it see you wouldn't hurt it, you just needed to know more.
If what they had written was true and there really was a Naga out there, you had fixated on the being since you had first read about. Utterly hypnotised and hungry to learn more. A half snake half man, you almost shook in excitement. Surely if it wasn't entirely human then it wouldn't have a human life cycle? It was what you prayed for anyway.
Once you had finally relaxed into the tree you rose yourself back up, shaking out tense thighs and cracking your neck. "Let's go." You whispered to yourself, beginning your journey again.
Just as you felt you were going to drop dead, you finally saw it through the trees. A large pound and the waterfall that sounded like heavens trumpets. With a newfound energy you surged forward, ignoring the leaves and branches that scratched at your skin.
At this point all you could think about was the sweet water, all thoughts flung out of your mind as you raced towards the pond. You dropped to your knees as you cupped your palms and gulped up the water. It could be infected with something but at this point you didn't care, all that mattered was the cold liquid sliding down your throat as you guzzled it down.
You stretched forward, sliding your body into the water and letting out a groan of appreciation as the cool water sloshed against your skin. The heat on the island had gotten unbearable at this point and you finally relaxed as you felt the hot sticky sweat coating your body washed away.
You pushed your self up, shaking the water out of your hair as you finally took a look around. Eyes quickly drawn to the large green striped lump, eyes doubling as you scrambled up and ran over to it. You saw it laying passed out on the ground, you couldn't deny the fact your breath got sucked out of your lungs.
He was gorgeous, thick brown hair framing his pale face. Dark circles ringed his eyes and his chest was defined, his biceps thick. You had no doubt it could kill you in a heart beat, the thought alone excited you in a twisted way. You brushed the thoughts away, bending down and searching him for any obvious wounds. You found what looked like a tip of a spear stuck into his tail, mind thinking back to the report. From the angle it was, he wouldn't have been able to properly grip and pry it out himself.
You frowned, you didn't know it's anatomy. Just what humans guessed was it's anatomy. For all you knew you could tear a vein pulling it out, yet the thick yellow and black crust that had built up around it had your chances limited. It was clearly infected, it had to be removed.
You squatted down, hands grasping the spear tip as you pulled with all your might. His skin was thick and clung to it, but you finally got it, throwing it as far away as you could. Blood quickly ran from the wound and without a second thought you pulled your shirt off and used it to try and clot the wound. A sudden hiss and you dipped down just in time to miss venom that had been shot at you.
"I want to help!" You yelled out, keeping pressure on the wound. "Please don't move." He stilled, looking at you with an untrusting glare. Yet he made no move as you kept pushing down on his wound, his black blood soaking through your shirt and coating your hands.
"Why?" He hissed, baring his fangs at you in warning. "You didn't deserve what happened. I just. Want to know more about you." You hoped he was see the sincerity on your face, instead he spat again. At least he didn't aim for you. You tumbled back onto your ass as it rose up, towering over you and making you feel tiny.
You anxiously gazed up at him, fear sparking through your body. "Ssso you can tell other humanss where I am?" His voice bellowed and you swore it shook the entire forest. You threw your hands up, shaking them and your head. "No! I swear! I wont ever tell anyone." You gasped out as you slid back, his eyes glowing as his slit pupils constricted. His eyes searched your body. "You wont. You can't leave now." Your face dropped when he suddenly ripped you up into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist.
"You would look ssssoo pretty full of my eggss." Your eyes bulged out as you choked. "Wh-what?" You shrieked out, panic swimming through your veins and stabbing you straight into the heart. "Theress no otherss like me. You will do." He chuckled as a long tongue suddenly ran up your neck, you let out a deep breath as you froze.
His abnormally long tongue ran over your neck, leaving saliva in its trail as it explored you. Whimpers left you when his tongue finally found your nipple, massaging the bud and smirking as you twitched in his grasp. He had no idea humans were so sensitive. He pulled you off of him, dropping you to the floor before quickly turning you around and shoving you face first into the ground.
You whined as he yanked off your shorts, clawed hands grasping your ass and spreading it apart. You dug your nails into the ground, yelping when you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your ass. "Wha-wha." You choked out, getting cut off when he dove his tongue into you. "A-Ah!" You whined out, back arching as his tongue dug deep inside of you rubbing the most sensitive parts of you.
You shook in his hold as he ate you out, his cheeks pressing against you as drool dripped down your ballsack. You sobbed as you rocked back, lost in the feeling of his tongue twisting inside of you. Your voice only got higher, his fingers leaving bruises on your ass as he gripped you tight, trying to keep you in place.
"Puh-please." You begged, entire body shaking. He slipped a finger into you, slurping obscenely around the digit. You came hard, you hadn't ever felt anything like this. You hadn't been touched by anyone before, and here a supposed mythical creature was tongue deep inside of you and you felt like you were floating away.
Despite already cuming you whined when he pulled his fingers and tongue out, a chuckle coming from him as he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his hips. He pulled you close, mouthing your neck before biting down onto your flesh. You let out a groan at the pain, face scrunching up as your body began loosing up.
"What. Are you doing?" You questioned, voice lethargic. "You could never take me with out thiss." Instead of questioning him you rested your chin on top of his shoulder, almost passing out in his arms.
The feeling of something slimy rubbing against your hole had you moaning and pulling back, lidded eyes gazing at the naga. His hand wrapped around your neck, keeping your face in his view as he began sinking you down onto his cock. You whined desperately the further he pushed in, lungs sinking as you were stretched beyond your limit. Desperate begging falling from your lips as he bottomed out inside of you.
You looked down to see your stomach bulge with his cock, lips dropping and moaning at the sight of it. "You will do very good indeed." Toby thanked the god's for this, finally he had been provided a suitable mate to store his eggs inside of.
He easily bounced you on his cock, drinking in every moan that left your lips. Smirk coating his face as he watched his little mate writhe with pleasure all because of him. You were reduced to a moaning whining mess, crying in his arms as pleasure tore your very being apart.
You mindlessly rode him, head flung back as his hand around your neck kept you tethered to reality. You could barley take a breath, his cock hitting deep inside of you. You yelped when he slid two fingers into you, gasping at the burning stretch. "N-no. Too much." You rasped out. He chcukled. "it'ss okay. You can take it. I need to fertilisse my eggss." He grinned before he dove into your neck, sucking into your flesh.
"Aa-." You groaned out, voice wreaked. Once toby had worked four more fingers into you he pulled them out, laughing at the way you whined. "Don't worry. You'll be full sssooon." He drawled out, teeth gleaming in the now moonlight. You hadn't even noticed it hadn't gotten dark.
The feeling of another cock penetrating you threw all thoughts out of the window, breath and body freezing as you gaped at Toby. Choking as he slid his other appendage deep into you. He let out a loud groan. "F-fuck. Ssso goo-good." He groaned out, his self control leaving him as he began ramming into you. He punched the breath back into you and if you could be embarrassed you would, your voice was incredibly pitched and whiney.
You freely cried, moaning as you sobbed. Completely overwhelmed was how you felt as the Naga impaled you on not one but two cocks. You thrashed in his arms as your body shook, cum shooting out of your cock and coating both of your chests. Toby felt victorious, his mate clearly enjoyed their breeding. It made him ecstatic.
It wasn't long before you felt something push into you, before you knew it a few more somethings were shooting into you. You whined in confusion and slight fear, the idea of the naga actually inserting egg's in to you shaking you to your core. "You ca-can take it." You just whined pitifully, fully spent as your body spasmed around his cock.
You watched as your own stomach expanded, jaw dropping. You couldn't tell if you were horrified or excited. Before you could stop yourself you pressed your lips to his, whining into his mouth as his cum flooded inside of you. It felt almost unbearable.
He gently fucked you through it, stopping once he had finally given you all he could. "Ssso pretty. My pretty mate." He grinned while petting your hair, keeping his cocks buried deep inside of you so he didn't spill any of his precious eggs.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months
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DAVE WITH AN ALTERNATIVE FEM!READER
Ask : Hi omg i'm so excited for Dave Lizewski bc no one writes for him like that!! Maybe a Dave lizewski x shy reader who dresses a little alternatively like a more casual goth who's secretly a nerd and he sees her at the comic store?? I love awkward x awkward tropes sm!
~ thanks for requesting, love! I made this a headcanon I hope that's okay! I also love the awkward x awkward trope! ~
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• Dave would tell Marty and Todd his type was the pretty popular girls: like Katie. And to his defense, that is who he was most likely to crush on. Just like everyone else!
• That changes when he meets you.
• He sees you from across the street from the comic book store, looking in at an old vinyl store with a bunch of old books and even some cool guitars. He's drawn in by your chunky black heels and the amount of colorful butterflies clips in your hair that make a stark contrast to the black dress you have on.
• When he points you out to Marty and Todd, telling them he recognized you from Biology, they laugh and tell him he's delusional because they've never noticed you.
• You're usually shy.
• Todd dares Dave to talk to you, which causes poor Dave to blush so hard and immediately decline.
• His friends call him a pussy and now he's annoyed.
• Dave makes the decision to go up to you. You seem nice enough in class. So, he walks over and taps your shoulder. You jump and turn around, pointing your keys at him menacingly.
• "Woah!" Dave exclaims, moving away. He opens his mouth to explain himself but he's completely distracted when he sees your thick eyeliner and how gorgeous your dark red lip stick is. He just stammers over his words, embarrassed.
• "Dave," you whisper, relaxing and to his surprise you sound just as shy as he's always imagined. Still, your appearance is a contrast to the shyness of your voice.
• You know his name. Dave feels like he's floating.
• "H-hi," he stammers and rubs his nape, resisting the urge to look back at Todd and Marty who are probably staring from inside the comic book store. "H-how are you? D-do you listen to this?" He points at a random vinyl in the window as he tries making conversation.
• You don't but your nerves win and you say yes, making up a harmless white-lie about said band just to keep talking to him.
• Eventually, the conversation becomes more natural and he both end up making each other laugh. Dave is completely unaware that Todd and Marty are angrily glaring at him to come back inside and hang out with them.
• Dave doesn't care! He's having too much fun with you! Turns out you also like comic books just as much as he does.
• You give him your number and you spend all evening on the phone.
• Both you and Dave are nervous that when you're both back at school, neither of you will talk to each other because you're in such different circles. You think Dave would be embarrassed of you, and he thinks you'd be embarrassed of him.
• ✨ Idiots In Love ✨
• When Monday comes, Dave has worked up the courage to come up to you after Biology. You'd spent the entire class worried he would ignore you and the moment you hear him call you name, you spin around on your heels and grin.
• "I like your makeup," Dave says, mentioning your eyeliner and eyeshadow. Your grin widens.
• "I can show you how it's done sometime, if you want," you'll suggest in a whisper and Dave is immediately interested because he wants to spend more time with you.
• Over the next weeks, you go on "casual dates" and turns out you have more in common than you imagined. You really like him. He really likes you.
• Once you're dating dating and he's your boyfriend, the dates become more intimate and more frequent. Sometimes you'll cuddle and read comics in Dave's bedroom and other times you'll end up making out in your living room when your parents are away.
• The closer you become, the less shy you both become.
• Dave now can't get enough of the way you dress and how you wear your makeup—he even lets you put some makeup on him 😊
• But his very favorite thing? When you'll kiss his cheek/nose/lips and leave a dark mauve lipstick stain. Makes him feel all fluttery inside! He just loves you so much!
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conchcronch · 4 months
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Primal Hunger
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Astarion x You
You and your party are currently taking a rare moment of respite at the Last Light Inn. Everyone is fast asleep in preparation for what you can only assume is going to be a lengthy battle with whatever waits for you at Moonrise, everyone except a certain pale elf who has been acting even more prickly then normal. Of course you have to go find him, it’s really the only option.
NSFW Below the Cut
You rolled over, sitting up and glancing around the room we had all piled into the moment we had gotten to Last Light, wanting to take every chance we had to rest up before storming Moonlight tomorrow.
You mentally took a head count out of habit, Shadowheart, Karlach, Wyll, and Gale, who had fallen asleep with a tome on his face, but there was one missing. The one who had been acting more irritable and standoff-ish than usual. You pulled yourself out of the bed, a shiver running down your spine as your bare feet touched the cold wooden floors. You reach over and grabbed the blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed, wrapping it around yourself. You open the door just enough to squeeze out and shut it behind you. The inn was as silent as it could get, the crackle of the fire in the makeshift kitchen was the only sound, you could hear gentle chanting from Isabel’s room as you tiptoe by.
The night air is frigid and stagnant, no breeze could be felt despite being surrounded by water. The torches and the radiant glow surrounded the whole area, making it easy enough to glance outside the inn to see the man is no where in sight. Begrudgingly, you step outside, still barefooted, the dirt under your feet feels oddly familiar after spending so many nights at camp. As you walk behind the inn towards the water and small dock you can hear a quiet curse as you round the corner.
There he is, almost completely obscured. If you hadn’t been looking for him you would have walked right by. It was hard to make him out as he crouched in the shadow of the balcony of the inn. “There you are,” You take a step towards him only to see his form step backwards.
“Go away.” His tone is curt and sharp, a broken breath that you can barely hear.
“You’ve been off all day, I’ve been worried,” Another step closer from you to which he steps back, like a dance of avoidance has been enacted between the two of you.
“I’ll be fine, I just…I just need you to leave.” You’ve never heard this tone from him, you’ve heard him be smug, rude, sincere (you think) and even mean, but this is different. There is a hint of desperation underlining each word.
“I’m not going to leave.” You say gently, reaching a hand out to him, almost as though you’re showing him you aren’t hiding a dagger behind your back.
“You need to go.” He steps back again, but as he does this he leaves the shadows that has been shrouding him. The moon seems brighter tonight, maybe Isabel is preying harder than normal or maybe it’s just how the light reflects off his near translucent skin. The lines in his face are deeper, his features more sunken in than they seemed even a few hours ago. His eyes appear more black than red and his lips are dry and so cracked they would have probably bled if he had any blood of his own.
“Gods,” You whisper before you can stop yourself. You can see him cringe at the word, he looks away and you swear you saw a slight quiver of his chin. You can tell he’s about to bolt so you clear the distance between the two of you before he has time to react, clearly his reflexes are dulled in his current state. You grab his wrist tightly. He tugs weakly once, twice, then gives in. “Tell me what’s wrong.” You cup his cheek and pull his face towards you, seeing his eyes up close, you know something is wrong.
“I haven’t eaten.”
“For how long?” He used his free hand to rub his face, sighing heavily.
“Not since we left the Underdark.”
“That was four days ago, Astarion!” You scold.
“Obviously that wasn’t my goal,” He replies, nose scrunching as he speaks.
“Why don’t we go and find you something to eat? I can hold the lantern so the shadows st-“
“Absolutely not, for so many reasons.” He tears his arm from your grasp, but doesn’t leave.
“Why not?”
“Hm, let me see, for starters, you will never see me hunt, ever.” He looks at you and you can tell he’s serious. “Second, I can’t eat anything from out there,” He dramatically points in the direction of the cursed lands.
“What about the Ox?” You ask, pointing to that creature that has been giving you looks since the Grove. You couldn’t put your finger on it but something seemed really off about it, and maybe having Astarion drain it wouldn’t be the worst thing.
“I can last a few more days,” He says, clearly trying to convince himself as well as you.
“You don’t look like you can.” The hand that’s still on his cheek trails down to his shoulder, you want to move it lower, to feel his chest inhale and exhale the unnecessary breaths he takes.
“All we have to do is return those ridiculous orbs and find whatever this relic is, then we’ll be rid of this place. Then I can eat.” You know deep in your heart that there’s way more to tomorrow than finding the Nightsong and getting out of here. But you don’t want to debate that with him.
“I need you at your best tomorrow. We don’t know what’s down there and I can’t risk you acting impulsive.” You hold his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you and only you.
“Rude.” Is all he can manage.
“Astarion, you need to eat.”
“Oh do I? See I thought if I just wait around eventually I’ll start to feel better.” You’re not in the mood for his tood, and he can tell that by your unimpressed expression. “I’m open to ideas, but all of your’s have been rather shit thus far.” You wrap your arms around his waist, ear against his chest where a heart beat once was, but hasn’t been for 2 centuries.
“My sweet, I can’t be this close to you right now…” His voice is clearly showing his restraint but you tighten your arms around his waist before he has a chance to pull away.
“Just ask.”
“No.” His voice was tight and he pulls his head away as though you smell foul.
“What if I offer?” You leaned forward, standing up on your toes so you can press your lips to his scar.
“I won’t be able to stop.” His voice shakes.
“You’ve stopped before.”
“Not when I’m this hungry.” You let go of him, opting to cup his cheeks in both hands, guiding him to look at you. His eyes are glassy and you can tell for the first time since you had met him that his mask was cracking and you were seeing the real Astarion.
“I know you,” Slowly your words began to sink in and you saw him begin to relax into your grasp. Moving carefully, as though he was trying to avoid spooking an animal, he leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder and you nuzzling into the crook of his neck. You could feel him breathe in your scent, a broken whine barely slipping from his chapped lips. “I trust you, my love.”
“I’m just so hungry.” He all but sobbed into you as you rubbed his back in an attempt to sooth him.
“I know my sweet, I’m right here. Take what you need.” He whines again as his nose brushes against your neck.
”If I don’t stop y-“
“You will.” You cut him off.
”If I don’t,” He tears himself away from your neck looking at you with a clenched jaw. “You do whatever you have to to get me away from me.” You nod but know it’s not enough for him “I need to hear you agree.” His hands are on your waist, you can feel the pads of his fingers press into your shirt.
“I promise.” You barely get the words out before he’s at your neck. First is the feeling of his tongue, immediately finding your pulse point before the familiar sting of his fangs piercing the skin takes over.
You try to focus on anything other than the pain. A practice you had adopted early into the relationship. You hone in on the way his fingers grip at your sleep shirt, balling the fabric in his fists. The way he pulls you against him to a point where it almost hurts. He’s moaning into your neck as his tongue laps against your skin, trying to take all he can. He lets go of your shirt but only long enough to slip under your clothes, desperate for the warmth your body is offering him. Your eyes flutter closed when you feel your knees start to weaken, having no intention of stopping him if this is what he needs, you’re not going to stop him.
You’re barely aware of his fangs pulling from your neck or the long lick of his tongue cleaning your skin before he steps back. He’s panting, your blood smeared all over his lips. “Gods,” You know you’re paler than before, you can feel your head swim for a moment before he grabs you, guiding you to sit on the grass beneath your feet. “I think that was better than the first time.”
You reach out, dragging your thumb over his lips to collect as much of your blood from him as you can before bringing it to his lips. His tongue immediately darts out before he encircles your small wrist and guides your thumb into his mouth, lips wrapping around the digit and sucking hard. He can’t help the moan, his eyes fluttering closed to savor the way it felt to finally find sustenance. His eyes eventually open and his grip on your wrist loosens to allow your thumb to fall from his lips. He looks at you for the first time since you had sat down, he takes in your paler skin and the ways your eyelids seem heavier than they had in days. ”I didn’t even ask,” He brings a hand to you, pushing some of your hair behind your pointed ears. “Are you alright?” His voice was softer than it had been since you had left the Underdark and as you nod slowly. He exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I feel alright, how do you feel?”
He moves from kneeling to sitting beside you, pushing his hand through his curled hair, “I haven’t felt this good in decades.” He laughs lightly, “And once again, I’m indebted to you for saving my life.” You sigh out a laugh before leaning your head on his shoulder.
”I’m just glad to see you’re back to your usual fickle but cocky self.” He laughs, the sound is music to your ears.
“Was I that bad?” You internally debate how honest you should be, one side of you wanting to be honest for the sake of your party but the other side wanting to cut him some slack since he wasn’t himself.
“You were-“ You chose your words carefully, taking time to select the most accurate descriptor you could, “more difficult than normal, especially to Gale.” He laughed, the tips of his fangs catching the moonlight in a spectacular way.
“Well, as long as it was only Gale.” A comfortable silence falls between you, he turns his head to press a kiss to your hair before shifting onto his hip so he’s facing you. With a single finger he pulls your chin up, his lips pressing to yours in what felt like the first time in forever. “My poor pup,” His lips move over yours, his breath smelling like nothing, a trait that had caught you off guard weeks ago but you now found oddly comforting. “I’ve been neglecting you” He gently tsks as he tilts your head to the side, exposing the fresh puncture marks he had left. “Would you allow me to make it up to you?” He breathes between kisses to your neck that are very slowly moving further down.
“A-all the rooms are full.” The sound of your own stutter surprises you, your body reacting much quicker then it had, even more so then the first time he had propositioned you after the goblin camp. His hand slipped under your camp shirt, your stomach tightening at his chilled touch as it slowly slid from your navel to just under your breast.
“We’ve done it outside before, what’s another time?” He notices the way your eyes scan the makeshift safe haven, the way you whip your head around at the sound of a guard doing a patrol along the balcony, knowing they would get quite a show. He pushes himself up, extending a hand to you. You take it, allowing him to pull you up before leading you underneath the balcony where you had first found him shrouded by shadow. “Is this more to your liking?” You nod, feeling better pressed against the cool wood of the tavern.
He kisses you again, this time slowly. His tongue sliding along the roof of your mouth before pulling back just long enough for you to whine until he leaned back in again. His hands both slipped under your shirt, no longer playing coy and running the pads of his thumbs over your pebbled nipples simultaneously, earning a heavy sigh into the kiss. “My sweet, I want to show you how grateful I am to you for taking such a risk just to feed a pitiful vampire.” You run a hand through his curled tresses, enjoying the way he leaned into your touch.
“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re pretty handsome too.” You smile, he returns it.
“A pitiful, but handsome vampire then.” Without another word he drops to his knees. One hand opting to grab your hip, pushing you against the wall as though you were going to slip away if he let you go. The other he used to guide your leg over his shoulder then pushing your long skirt up your thigh until you took the signal and held it in place so he could use his now free hand to pull aside your panties. A heavy sigh leaving your lips as soon as you felt his breath on your neglected core. “It truly has been a long time, hasn’t it?” His hand touches you before his mouth, his fingers pulling you open before his nose nudges against your clit, his eyes watching you the same way you’re sure he watches his prey.
“It-it hasn’t been that long…” You lie, a whine coming from your throat as his tongue licked a long strip and you could feel him smile against you.
“I’ve left my sweet pet neglected, but I’ll be sure to make it up to you.” His breath is burning hot against you, and it takes everything you have not to grab his head and force his face into you. And as though he was using that pesky tadpole to read your thoughts, he wastes no more time and flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit as he slips a single finger into you. You can feel him hum as he pulls the finger from you, pulls his head back so he’s sure you can see how he licks the digit, sucking your slick clean off. “Every part of you tastes,” He pauses to exhale heavily, “exquisite” you couldn’t help but moan at his words, your head lolling back when he finally slipped the finger back inside of you.
As he adds a second finger inside of you, his lips encircling your clit and sucking not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to provide stimulation as his fingers stretched you open. Your fingers find their rightful place tangled in his curls, feeling how he hums into you when you tug gently. “Please, my sweet,” he moans against your core, his breath coming out in hot puffs against you. “I need you to cum on my tongue.” His tone has morphed into a whine, his lips releasing your clit in favor of licking long stripes from your hole, slipping past the muscle to momentarily join his fingers before moving up to your bundle of nerves for a second, repeating this over and over. He adds a third finger but you barely notice, your fingers locking his hair in a tight fist while your other hand is held over your mouth to keep from drawing any attention. Your hips begin to move with him, your mound chasing after his tongue if it leaves you for even a second. He can feel that you're close, your walls tremble with each thrust of your hips and your thighs are covered in your own juices. His lips return to your clit once more, his hand that wasn’t inside of you moving up to have a tight grip on your hip as he flicks his gaze up to you. He clocks the way your knees tremble when you stare down at him, meeting his gaze. He wishes you would remove your hand from your mouth so he could hear all your beautiful noises, all the breathy moans, all the shakey pleas. But those would have to wait until you had a proper room, or at the very least, his tent.
He pulls his lips away from your clit just long enough to speak, his fingers producing an absolutely filthy squelch every time they were thrusted inside fully, “My pet, I need you to cum for me,” You nod with eyebrows knit together, your hair falling in front of your face but you can’t tear your eyes away from his. “Can you do that for me?” You watch as he teasingly flicks the tip of his tongue against your nub before pressing his mouth against you again. You can feel him moan into you, feel the way he lets his fangs graze over your most sensitive tissue, but what truly sends you cascading over the edge was the way he had caught your ankle between his thighs and was at the point of rutting against you, his tented trousers feeling cool against your bare leg. The wave of orgasm washed over you like a welcomed tsunami, you were thankful for the hand you had over your mouth because there was no way in heavens or hells you were able to stop the way your mouth hung open, your moans turning into whimpers as your bucking against his face sputtered before slowing as you rode it out. His fingers remained inside of you, very slowly moving in and out of your soaked hole until your hips came to a complete stop.
When your eyes finally opened, you were greeted with the sight of Astarion who had shifted to sitting between your legs, his erection very apparent as he greedily licked and sucked as his fingers, his eyes trained on yours. “And here I thought your blood was the most delicious thing about you.” His voice was smug but the smile that spread across his glossy lips was sincere.
You couldn’t resist him much longer. Your apprehension of there being people around was forgotten the moment you saw the way he was sucking at his fingers, his fingers that mere seconds ago had been deep inside you, lolling you to your crashing orgasm. And now you wanted to return the favor, you wanted to be the reason people were closing their windows in the tavern, the reason your party were holding pillows over their heads in an attempt to block out the moans you unsuccessfully tried to muffle.
You were quick to drop to the ground, and even quicker to close the distance between him and you. Your hand was the first part of you to touch him, loving the way he let out a heavy sign before leaning forward in search of a kiss. His lips tasted like you, both your blood and your arousal, two tastes you had quickly become accustomed to when it came to having him as a partner. The way his fangs grazed over your lips as you kissed sent a tingle all the way down to your soaked core that was already ready to go again. You press a hand to his chest with just a little bit of force behind it, pushing him back to the ground. Before he can question you, likely to complain that you dared to end the kiss before he was ready, you reached between your legs to pull your panties off completely, balling them up and shoving them into one of his pant pockets. His furrowed brow immediately relaxed when you straddled his hips, knowing you instantly made the front of his trousers wet but not caring in the slightest. You ground against his covered crotch a few times, watching as his brows knitted together again, his eyes squeezing shut as a growl came from deep in the back of his throat. He didn’t have to say anything, you knew he was frustratingly swollen, and truthfully as much as you love teasing him whenever given the chance, but it had been much too long and you found yourself nothing short of feral.
You made quick work of the laces holding his pants closed, wrenching them open the moment they were loose enough. You pushed his blue underwear down and couldn’t help the moan when you finally held his member in your hand. His hips subconsciously bucked urging you to run your thumb over the bead of precum at the tip, smearing it over his head. You loved the moments where he became putty in your hand. The times when he would be whiny, begging you to do anything to him, rutting against you while nearly sobbing into your mouth as though he had never been touched before. You sat yourself on the tops of his thighs, your hand slowly working his girthy cock, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. The smell of bergamot and rosemary filled your nostrils, a whine could be heard at the back of his throat when you sucked at the scars on his neck. You could see the tips of his fangs as he chewed at his bottom lip trying to keep himself quiet as you worked your hand up and down his shaft, working your wrist in a circular rhythm. “You’re so needy” you breathe against his neck, his hips canting at your words.
“You’re one to talk.” A sentence that would normally be dripping in snark is instead said like a plea.
“Is that anyway to speak to your savior?” You couldn’t hold back the smile that danced across your lips at the thought of you being his savior. The ache between your legs was becoming more than you wished to bear. You let go of his member, a soft ah fell from his open lips as you brought yourself up on your knees just enough to be able to guide him to your entrance. You rubbed his head along your lips a few times, using your hand to hold up the front of your skirt so he can see the way his cock nudged against your clit before you push it back towards your dripping hole. Before you can push him inside, his cool hands run up your thighs until they can grab your hips applying just enough downward force to get the message across. You lower yourself down, feeling every inch of him slide into you, the slight burn of his girth stretching you out more than his fingers could have. Your skirt falls from your hand as you brace yourself on his still cloth covered chest, your fingers clawing at the fabric.
“Gods” He breathes as he bottoms out, a hand pulling out from under your skirt to pull at the lances holding your shirt closed, his pace getting more and more desperate the longer it takes before he just starts pulling at them until it’s loose enough he can wrench the fabric below your breasts. You begin riding him, pulling off him slowly before inching back, loving the way you stretched wider then any partner has before. With his free hand he grabs the fabric that’s bunched under your chest, yanking you down to him, catching you completely off guard, almost causing you to lose your balance before he catches you with his lips to yours. His hand that had been on your chest somehow snaked to your hip, balling your skirt in his fist and trying to set the pace of your bounces. ”Go faster, gods dammit”
“A-Astarion” You moaned into him, trying to pull back from him to speak again but his lips chanced your’s anytime you tried to flee. You began moving your hips in a circle, wanting to lean back so you could force his cock to hit against your spongy g spot but his grip on your shirt held you firmly in place. When you manage to open your eyes you’re greeted with his crimson gaze, his lips parted enough that you can see his tongue sliding between his parted teeth watching your every move. You can’t help but wantonly moaning at the attention, his girth filling you in a way nothing else did. Your eyes flutter closed once more, the sound of your slick against his leather pants seems deafening, only being dwarfed by any moan that slips past your lips.
“You’re doing so good for me.” His voice sounds as though it’s dripping in honey, the tone alone making you whine. He thrusted his hips up, his tip hitting you as deep as it could. “I wish I could have you splayed out to toy with all night.” You drop your head, your long hair falling in front of your face as though it were a makeshift veil that he has to slip the hand through just to pull your face up to look at him again. “Don’t you dare hide from me, little minx.” His tone is almost mocking, but it only serves to make you even wetter, something you were confident wasn’t even possible. ”I have a task for you.” His thumb glides from your chin to your lips, his thumb guiding your mouth open enough that he could slip it through your teeth, toying with your tongue. He allows you to nod, almost helping you move your head up and down. “I want you to cum on my cock,” His eyes follow the way you sway, the burning iron in your gut searing white hot and your thighs beginning to feel like the jelly Gale spreads on his toast every morning with his cup of tea. “Can you do that for me?” His thumb slips from your mouth, opting to caress your neck with feather light touches, lingering over your fresh puncture marks. You nod but he smiles, shaking his head “No no my pet, I need to hear you say it.” You can tell he’s enjoying this game, a game you didn’t agree to play but were happily participating in all the same.
“Yes.” Your voice is raw like metal over a grinding wheel, clearly you had been moaning louder then you realized.
“What a good girl.” His light touches turned to a grasp, his fingers wrapping around your neck not with the intention of restricting air flow, but as a means of control. He pushed you back, your back arching beautifully, your chest for all to see if someone happened to be around. You’re quick to catch yourself, your hands on his thighs as you begin to chase the feeling you’ve been dancing around since you got on top of him. With his free hand he grabs the fabric of your skirt, pinning it to your side where he holds you so he’s able to watch you take him with ease. He watches every time his pale cock slides out from your soaked hole, his shaft glistening in your slick. He wants to speak, wants to tell you how good you look taking him with such ease, how he’s trained you so well, but instead he turns his focus to chasing his own climax, hips thrusting up as much as the position would allow. His grip on your neck slips, opting to toy with your pebbled nipple, your mouth falling open as a whine comes out, his eyes switching from your cunt to your cock drunk expression. Your mouth is hanging open and your eyes closed, focused on throwing yourself over the edge.
Orgasm crashes into like force damage, knocking the wind from your lungs. His grip is back on your neck as you lose any real control over your body, riding him through your climax. You barely register how he pulls you down, his head resting on his shoulder, your lips grazing his neck as you feel him begin to thrust into you at an erratic pace. “I’m going to-“ He grunts his arms wrapping around your body, holding you tight against him as he rushes towards his peak “I’m going to make you mine” He growls in your ear before sinking his teeth into you again, barely a breath before you feel his warmth flood you. His hips sputtering, fucking his seed into you as his nails bit into the clothes you’re somehow still clad in. He pulls his fangs from your neck, his tongue greedily lapping at the blood that flows from the wounds. His thrusts become weaker until they finally slow to a stop, he’s holding onto you but you’re no longer in a vice grip. With one final suck on your neck he pulls away, his body going limp, finally satiated. You follow him, laying down on his chest, his softening cock slipped from you and the feeling of his seed cooling between your thighs would normally force you to your feet with the intention of cleaning up but not tonight. Tonight you laid on top of him trying to catch your breath that had long since raced away from you. His arms encircling your waist as though you were going to get up and leave at any second. Astarion found great comfort in your breathing, feeling your heartbeat against his long stilled chest felt strangely calming, as though you shared that steady rhythmic beat.
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